1.2.6-Shirley-keeldar
ClubNinetyThree: 1.2.6: Les deux plateaux de la balance It’s a good thing I’ve been reading these chapters a day ahead of time, because otherwise my entire commentary for today would have been contained in three words: THIS IS BULLSHIT. My discomfort from last chapter is entirely justified! My impulse to love everyone backfires yet again! But before we get to all that, a couple of other notes. The ship is in as dire straits as I expected, and on top of it all it’s off course. All that secrecy and stealth is no longer of any use to it. Now it’s more important for rescuers to find it before the sea can tip it the rest of the way from ship to wreck. De grosses vagues venaient baiser les plaies béantes de la corvette, baisers redoutables. Le bercement de la mer était menaçant. (Large waves came to kiss the corvette’s gaping wounds, fearsome kisses. The rocking of the sea was threatening.) These lines are just overwhelmingly lovely, especially the second sentence. It’s not just the juxtaposition of the softness of the sea with the danger it poses to the ship, it’s specifically the associations: ‘bercer’ is a word I’m used to seeing in some specific context, babies rocked by mothers, people being lulled by sleep, at the most sinister people who are nursed by illusions, but here it’s the outright, very present threat of the sea that has this very caressing word applied to it, and I just can’t articulate how worked up I got about these lines, they are so wonderful. We can’t dwell on beautiful language forever, though, because the plot keeps happening, and the plot, as mentioned, is BULLSHIT. The Peasant is still the sinister witness of last chapter, consistent with his brief, impersonal, but decisive intervention. He’s taken no notice of what’s been going on around him while the crew tries to stabilize the ship. Instead of contributing, he goes to lean against the mast. And the captain brings the gunner to him. Behind the captain walked a man, haggard, out of breath, his dress disordered, but still with a look of satisfaction on his face. It was the gunner who had just shown himself so skilful in subduing monsters, and who had gained the mastery over the cannon. I’ve become quite attached to this dude, in case you haven’t noticed. So there’s about a second where I get excited that the narrative and The Peasant alike are recognizing his contribution, but, well. First The Peasant and the captain have a polite little priority dispute — no, you first, no, after you, I insist — and finally, to reward his courage and efforts, The Peasant goes so far as to take the cross of Saint-Louis from the captain’s own coat and tie it onto the gunner’s jacket. And then, before anyone’s had a chance to process this, The Peasant orders him shot. I repeat: THIS IS BULLSHIT. OK, look, before anyone has to say it to me, I’ll say it to me myself: this is how things go. Negligence from someone in the gunner’s position can, and almost did, amount to destroying the entire ship. He’s a military man and he must have known the consequences. But, still, knowing he was most likely doomed whatever happened, he stepped in to right the harm he’d done, perhaps hoping that if he succeeded he would be shown mercy, perhaps because he wanted to save everyone else, perhaps simply because it was his duty. We just don’t know. And the irony of his thanking The Peasant for saving his life is painful. It’s just all so COLD on the part of The Peasant — which, yes, means that Boisberthelot and La Vieuville don’t need to wonder anymore whether they’ll be disappointed, the Vendée has found it’s leader INDEED, because he isn’t about to show mercy to anyone for anything — and it’s hard for me to deal with after spending the last chapter so wrapped up in the gunner’s duel with the cannon. I can appreciate, distantly, The Peasant’s speech about the sea being an enemy, about a crossing being a battle, especially in contrast to the soft language applied to the sea above. It’s not making me feel any better, though. A dismal silence fell over the corvette. A distant hurricane gusted. A few moments later, a report rang out in the shadows, a light flashed, then all was still, and the sound of a body falling into the sea was heard. The old passenger, still leaning against the mainmast, had crossed his arms, and was buried in thought. Boisberthelot pointed to him with the forefinger of his left hand, and said to La Vieuville in a low voice: "The Vendée has a head." laughter I’m very upset. But as long as I’m here, let me make an observation about the title: what is hanging in the balance? The ship and its crew, of course. But also in this chapter The Peasant weighs the gunner’s actions and finds that the heroism of stopping the cannon doesn’t outweigh the harm of letting it get loose in the first place. Commentary Needsmoreresearch #society for getting inadvisably attached to minor characters YEAH, reblogging that tag. (Everyone’s posting so many excellent things so quickly!) Takethewatch SUCH BULLSHIT. I AM SO UPSET. BUT the description of his death is very distant, in a very weird way. and at first my idea that MAYBE HE’S NOT REALLY DEAD was quite honestly just wishful thinking. but the more I think about it the more convinced I am that he’s not actually dead. Why else would Hugo have described it so vaguely? I mean, okay, yes, the spare language has a big emotional impact. But it doesn’t seem like Hugo’s style? I’m convinced that the firing squad let him slip away or something and he’s going to swim to shore and be JUST FINE. And I’m going to continue in this belief until we actually see a corpse. Shirley-keeldar (reply to Takethewatch) Hmmmm, I’d like to think that! I was read the distant description as a sort of solemnization/funeral rites, but your way is certainly more hopeful. Though it’s at least ten miles to the nearest coast from were the ship’s ended up… and it’s a coast full of people who aren’t exactly going to be happy to see a deserter from the Republican Navy. :\ I’M SORRY I DON’T MEAN TO BE SUCH A DOWNER, I’m just trying not to be more hopeful than the situation warrants…